


Perigee

by Moonraykir



Series: Even Dragons Have Their Ending [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), F/M, Flirting, Missing Scene, Names, Romance, introductions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29008383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonraykir/pseuds/Moonraykir
Summary: The elf bends closer to hear Kili tell of a fire moon, and for these precious minutes, he can imagine that she might be within his reach.The other half of Kili and Tauriel's conversation in the Elvenking's dungeons.perigee: the point of orbit at which the moon is nearest the earth
Relationships: Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)
Series: Even Dragons Have Their Ending [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/392071
Comments: 24
Kudos: 28





	Perigee

"I saw a fire moon once."

It wasn't starlight, but the sight had filled Kíli with the same wonder he heard in the elf warrior's voice as she spoke of the stars. To his delight, she turned eager eyes to his face, so he went on with his story, equally eager to give her this small tribute of beauty.

Listening intently, she sat on the stair outside his door, for the first time bringing her lovely face to the level of his own. From another elf, the motion might have been one of condescension, a reminder that he was beneath her, but this seemed an invitation to intimacy.

"I wish I could show it to you," he finished, looking directly in her eyes.

Her gaze was warm, appreciative. "I can nearly see it now."

 _So can I_ , Kíli wanted to say. This elf, she was as fiery and radiant as the harvest moon which he remembered. Indeed, nothing he had seen before compared to her beauty—not the gems of the earth or the work of dwarvish hands, not the stars or the moon, nor any living maid.

"Your name is Kíli, is it not?" she asked.

He smiled to himself; she didn't miss anything, it seemed, not even when she was killing spiders, for that must have been when she heard Fíli shouting his name. Kíli stepped back from the bars so that he could sweep her a bow. "At your service, my lady."

When he straightened, he found her smiling slightly. Was she amused by the idea that he, a dwarf and a prisoner, could serve her in any way? Yet the words were no mere polite formality, spoken to her; he meant them with all his heart, and he would prove it to her.

"Oh, I may not have impressed you much in the forest today," Kíli said, allowing himself a self-deprecating grin. "But give me a bow, and I could match any of your elvish fighters."

The elf's eyes widened slightly. "You are an archer," she said, sounding surprised.

"All my life."

As he spoke, he realized that his youth must be nothing beside her elvish years, but to her credit, she did not laugh at him. Indeed, her tone was almost embarassed when she said, "I was told dwarves favored axe and sword."

"Aye, most of us do," Kíli agreed warmly. "I'm trained in the sword, too, of course. Though the bow has always been my favorite. It's more freeing, you know? With the sword, you always have to think two moves ahead so that each move links to the next and you leave no opening for your opponent." An imaginary sword in his hands, he swept through the motions of strike, parry, strike. "But the bow—" Kíli paused, tongue between lips. "When you draw the arrow to your cheek, you have to be perfect! And then it's done. You don't have to think about where your body is till the next arrow. Then for an instant, the only thing in the world is the bowstring again."

He shrugged, not sure he was making sense.

Yet the elf's eyes were bright, and she said, "I know precisely what you mean. I've always thought of it like dancing. Each arrow marks a downbeat; train your body to the steps, and you don't have to think about how to make it from one measure to the next. All you do is listen to the music."

Kíli nodded; of course battle was a dance to her. He remembered the fluid ease of her movements as she fought off the spiders. He had never seen strength and grace joined as they were in her: her skill as a warrior was undeniable, yet she was still more delicate and feminine than any other lass who had ever caught his eye.

Kíli put his hands to the bars and leaned closer to her again. "You know my name. May I have yours?"

She blinked, seeming startled, and for a moment Kíli thought she might refuse. Then her look softened again.

"Tauriel," she told him.

"Tauriel," he repeated, drawing the liquid sounds over his tongue. Yes, he liked the feel of it. She had made a soft flick of the tongue on the _R,_ much like you would in Khuzdul, but the Elvish vowels were brighter, the consonants more round and flowing than the Dwarvish, and the final syllables were like a flicker of light. "Tauriel. What does it mean?"

She flushed, and Kíli supposed he had asked a rather intimate question. Should he apologize?

"It means 'daughter of the forest,'" she said.

"It's beautiful. And very elvish." Kíli laughed at himself. "Well, obviously it's Elvish. But I mean it seems like just the thing an elf should be called. My name, for instance, means 'wedge.' And my brother, Fíli—his name means 'file.' So you see: Fíli and Kíli, we're a pair of craftsman's tools. They're very dwarvish names."

"I understand." Tauriel smiled, evidently delighted, and Kíli felt a thrill of happiness to know that she found him interesting. "You brother, he is the dwarf with golden hair and braids—" She pointed to her upper lip.

"In his mustache," Kíli supplied. Elves, he supposed, must not have much use for words describing facial hair. "Yes, that's Fíli."

"I noticed how you two watched for each other," Tauriel explained. "You must share a strong bond."

"Yeah." Kíli's smile relaxed into a more thoughtful expression. "We've always been that way."

"You're blessed to have each other," she said, and the gentle note of longing in her tone pierced him. Could this kind and beautiful maiden truly be lonely? It was hard to imagine how someone like she could lack for anything. Yet now that he thought of it, hadn't there been a faint undercurrent of hunger, of neediness, in her approach to him tonight, as if no-one ever talked to her as he was doing now?

He felt a flash of indignation at the thought, and then a glow of relief nearly as strong. The fair-haired elf, Tauriel's superior, had given Kíli a distinctly resentful look earlier. Kíli hadn't understood the other elf's Sindarin remark, but his own jealously had translated the meaning well enough. Yet Tauriel wouldn't be lonely if this elf lord was someone special to her.

"You don't have a brother or sister, then?" Kíli ventured. "Or anyone else like that?"

Tauriel laughed, clearly amused by him now. "No, I have no brother or sister," she said, teasing.

Stones, that hadn't been very subtle of him, had it?

As he was trying to think of something clever to say to make up for his clumsiness, her expression shifted from amusement at his expense to kindness again.

"Thank you for telling me about yourself, Kíli," she said.

"It was my pleasure, Tauriel."

She rose and brushed out her skirts. "His Highness will be wondering where I am."

"You're not going to the party?" Kíli asked, surprised. Given her reverence when she talked of the starlight, he had not supposed she would have missed this celebration in its honor.

She smiled gently. "I expect he is waiting for me there."

"Oh." Was this her way of saying she _did_ have someone after all, and an elvish prince, no less? She didn't know, of course, that she was looking at a dwarvish prince now, but Kíli had the sense that his royalty would not change what she thought of him, for better or worse. "Well, I hope you have a lovely evening," he said, hoping his voice was not too charged with regret.

"Thank you."

With his head tipped up to look at her standing at full height, the bars jutted awkwardly against his brow, and Kíli felt a stab of desire as strong as regret: she was as far above him as the stars she loved were above the earth. Oh, he knew better now than to believe that those stars were cold, but he mustn't let himself forget that they were still too far away for a dwarf to reach. Even the fire moon, which had briefly seemed so close and bright on the rim of the world, had swung back up to the heavens.

Tauriel stepped back, poised to go, though her gaze was still anchored on his. "Good night, Kíli," she said after a moment.

Then she turned in one smooth movement, her skirts and hair rippling behind her. Kíli flung out a hand, but his fingers barely skimmed the last floating strands of copper.

“Good night, Tauriel,” he sighed after her.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think of Tauriel, refusing to tell Kíli whether she has somebody special, when he obviously wants to know? XD
> 
> I realized that Kíli and Tauriel never introduce themselves onscreen in the movies, though Kíli knows Tauriel's name when she comes for him in Laketown. Also, Tauriel knows that Kíli is the "black haired archer" that the orc mentions, even though she has never seen him with a bow! (Presumably, the orc knows Kíli is an archer from having hunting Thorin and Co. for so long.) So here is a little scene to fill in the gaps in the story.
> 
> I also wanted to give Kíli and Tauriel a chance to talk about the meanings of their names. I considered including the conversation later in their relationship, but decided it worked best here. Eager Kíli isn't going to restrain his curiosity, even if it is a bit forward for a first date. :D I also love that Fíli and Kíli's names apparently refer to a pair of tools in the Old Norse language. Very dwarvish, indeed!


End file.
